


A Lot Of Marshmallows

by MeganRosenberg



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Asthma, Bullies, Friendship, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Near Drowning, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, POV Richie Tozier, Protective Richie Tozier, Revenge, Violence, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganRosenberg/pseuds/MeganRosenberg
Summary: When someone vandalizes Henry Bowers's car, he automatically assumes it was Richie. In order to get back at Richie and teach him a lesson he won't forget, the Bowers gang takes out their anger and rage on Eddie, while Richie can do nothing but watch.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

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"Get in here, Eds. We can't finish it if your paranoid ass won't even get in the water." Richie complained as he stacked stones up in a line across a shallow stream of water. He and Eddie were building a dam to see if they could successfully re-route the water and make a little lake off to the side, but Eddie was hardly helping.

"I'll get the dry ones on the side. The wet ones are really dirty." Eddie noted, picking up a rock off dry land and frowning down at it. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and stared at it with a disgusted frown like it was a literal piece of excrement.

"The ones on the side aren't even necessary." Richie frowned. "We gotta get the middle done. The sides are already done. That's all you've been doing."

"I'm not getting in that water, Richie. I don't care how many times you say it. I don't want parasites." Eddie shuddered dramatically.

"It's not gonna kill you, Eddie Spaghetti. It's fucking water. God damn." Richie rolled his eyes as he dug more rocks out of the shallow water he was kneeling down in. "What do you think you shower in every day?"

"Um, I don't know, water that's not full of mud and bugs and bacteria?" Eddie forced a nervous laugh as he dropped his rock at the edge of the dam, knocking a couple rocks off of the top of the structure rather than adding to it.

"Maybe we should go play in the bleach aisle at the drug store. Make a tower out of bars of soap." Richie suggested with an annoyed glare. "You're not even helping. You're fucking it up more than anything."

"I don't want to get the muddy part on me, Richie." Eddie frowned. "Or the water. You know if you get dirty water into an open cut, you can get an infection in your actual blood stream. It could lead to amputation. It happened to my mom's friend."

"Yeah, right. Your mom seems to have a lot of friends who had all sorts of improbable shit happen to them. Ever think she's just fuckin' with you? I don't ever see her hanging out with any of these friends." Richie scoffed.

Eddie widened his eyes and shook his head. "Because most of them died, Richie. Dirty water really can give you an infection, especially if you have an open cut."

"Do you have an open cut, Eds?" Richie stared.

"No." Eddie shrugged. "Still don't want mud all over me. What if i have a little paper cut or something that I didn't know about?"

"Something tells me you'd know." Richie smirked.

"I did have a bad paper cut once and didn't know for a couple minutes." Eddie told him. "Because it didn't bleed at first, so I figured it didn't really cut me. But it did. Looked down a few minutes later and saw actual blood like running down my hand."

"Wow." Richie faked shock. "Must have been terrifying."

"Shut up, Richie. It is scary if you get an infection. I don't want my fingers amputated." Eddie pouted.

"You know dirt is just dry mud." Richie noted. "All the dry rocks you've been picking up have the same stuff on them."

"But they're not slimy, and it comes off easier. Look at you... You look like a fucking toddler let loose in a mud puddle." Eddie noted, placing his next stone more carefully down onto the rest of the structure.

"Hey!" An angry voice shouted from somewhere up in the trees.

Eddie gasped softly and shrunk down as he looked up toward the voice. "Shit... Oh fuck... Richie, it's Bowers..." He whispered, his eyes huge as he looked like he was contemplating dropping their plans and making a run for it. "We should go..." He suggested, his voice tiny.

Richie stood up and looked toward the sound as well, noticing Henry Bowers and his friends, Vic, Patrick, and Belch making their way down the hill. All four of them looked to be in less-than-good moods. Henry Bowers specifically looked absolutely pissed.

"Fuck... What'd we do to piss them off now?" Richie grumbled.

Eddie swallowed nervously, glancing quickly from their bullies to Richie, then back again. He looked like he wanted to run. It was actually a pretty solid idea - for at least one of them to run, and of course if only one of them could escape whatever the older boys had planned, it should be Eddie. Richie could handle their cruelty better than Eddie could.

For a moment, Richie contemplated grabbing Eddie's hand and making a run for it together, but he knew they'd be caught, and he knew whatever Henry was mad about, he'd be ten times madder if he had to chase them down first. Nine times out of ten, running meant more anger, more violence... not escape.

So Richie kept his feet firmly planted in the shallow water and stared, waiting to hear what Henry was going to say, hoping he chased someone else into the woods, accidentally lost track of them, and would move along continuing to look for them rather than beating the shit out of him and Eddie.

"Which one of you fucking losers spray painted a dick on my car?!" Henry growled as he stormed up into the shallow part of the water, not even seeming to notice that he was getting his shoes and the bottoms of his pants all wet.

Richie felt his eyes widen as a laugh accidentally spilled from his mouth. He didn't even mean to laugh. He shouldn't have laughed... He was just caught off-guard. That wasn't what he expected the older boy to say. Richie didn't even know anything about this. He wished he had seen it though. He hoped Bowers hadn't painted over it yet so he could see it later.

"Someone spray-painted a dick on your car?" Richie fought to hold back his smirk, but didn't seem to have much success - not judging by the angry glare staring back at him. "Is it circumcised?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, faggot?" Henry growled.

Richie tried to force his smirk back down into a straight line. He couldn't believe someone pained a dick on Bowers's car. He couldn't even begin to guess who it could have been. Whoever it was, they were fucking funny... Brave as hell, maybe even to the point of being a fucking idiot, but still brave.

"It was you, Tozier?" Henry accused, stepping closer and grabbing the front of Richie's shirt in a tight fist.

Richie shook his head no as he reached up and gripped Henry's arm with both hands, hoping the older boy wouldn't pull up on his shirt any harder. He was going to lift him off the ground entirely if he did. "It wasn't me, Bowers." He answered with an unintentional smile. "Honest."

"I'm not fucking stupid, Trashmouth. You're the only little weasel both confident enough and fucking dumb enough to pull something like this." Bowers growled, letting go of Richie's shirt long enough to ball his hand into a fist and slam it painfully down against Richie's ribs.

Richie gasped a pained wince and squeezed his eyes shut as he fell down into the water with a small splash, catching himself painfully with his hands against the hard, cold, uneven rocks at the bottom of the shallow stream.

"Stop!" Eddie's frightened little voice called from somewhere behind him. Richie wished his friend would just run. It seemed Richie was pretty screwed here, but Eddie could still save himself.

"Don't you fucking lie to me, faggot. I know you did it. I want you to admit it." Henry persisted, grabbing Richie's arm and dragging him back up to his feet. "Tell me you did it." He glared.

Richie groaned in pain, but shook his head again. He really didn't do it, and couldn't even guess who would have. It did seem like something he'd do, particularly to deflect attention from any anger targeted at one of his friends... but it wasn't him. It would have been funny, but reckless even for Richie. He couldn't imagine any of his friends would have done it either.

"Say it, Tozier... Tell me you fucking did it. Or I'll punch you again." Bowers growled, squeezing the front of Richie's shirt in a tight fist.

"Let him go!" Eddie whimpered. "He didn't do it! Henry, stop!"

Richie looked over his shoulder at Eddie, who stood seemingly frozen in fear, offering the occasional weak plea for Richie's sake, but otherwise remaining firmly planted where he had been all along near the water's edge.

Richie breathed quick, shaky breaths as he looked back toward Bowers. It was funny that someone painted a dick on his car... but it wasn't funny that he had his friends here now, wanting to make someone suffer for it. It wasn't funny that Richie was in pain, or that Eddie was standing nearby, probably looking like a pretty easy target for the older boys' rage. It didn't matter that Eddie wasn't provoking them. It didn't matter that Eddie hadn't done anything to make them mad. They'd hurt him anyway just because he was there. Especially if he kept begging in that shaky little voice that probably made Henry and his friends want to punch him.

"I didn't do it, Bowers." Richie repeated, keeping himself from smirking or laughing this time. He couldn't keep making himself look guilty. He couldn't make Henry more upset and risk getting seriously hurt - or worse, risk getting Eddie hurt. "I know it seems like something I'd do, but I really didn't..." Richie shook his head.

"Who the fuck else is stupid enough to do that, Tozier? Which one of your little friends you gonna pin this on? Who do I need to fucking stab in the gut?" Henry growled, taking his knife out of his pants pocket and pressing the switch to draw out the blade.

Richie swallowed nervously, shaking his head and raising his hands in defense. "Holy shit Bowers... I didn't fucking do it. My friends didn't do it. This wasn't us. I swear. Calm the fuck down... I may be a loud mouth idiot but I'm not fucking suicidal. I didn't do it. I don't think any of my friends would have done that... You're barking up the wrong tree..."

Bowers narrowed his eyes, looking over Richie's shoulder toward Eddie. "If you didn't do it, he must have. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Eddie let out a tiny breath from behind Richie, whimpering a quiet, shaking noise, but not speaking up in his own defense.

Richie held his breath, shaking his head. "He didn't..." Richie breathed in a low voice. Eddie wouldn't do something so bold. Eddie was fucking terrified of these people. He normally just looked down and avoided them at all costs. He wouldn't dare make such big waves with these brutes. He was normally too scared to even say anything when they shoved or tripped him or called him names.

Henry suddenly pulled Richie closer, then shoved him roughly back.

Richie stumbled and landed in the water, catching himself painfully with his hands. Eddie was quick to come to his aide, no longer so scared of the dirty water as he took a few steps in to grab Richie's arm and pull him up.

"Eds, just go..." Richie whispered as Eddie pulled him to his feet. "Go home. I'll deal with this. I'll be fine... Go."

"No." Eddie whispered back, holding nervously onto Richie's arm. "I'm not leaving you alone with them..."

Richie exhaled tiredly. "Eddie, go!" He said again, shoving Eddie lightly backward. "I can handle them. Run home. I don't want you mixed up in this. It doesn't have anything to do with you."

"It doesn't have anything to do with you either, Rich." Eddie reminded him.

Richie swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, before putting his hand on Eddie's arm and pushing him carefully behind himself, stepping forward to stare down their bullies. "What do you guys want? We didn't fuck with your car... Sorry somebody else did... I can't do anything about that. You're cruel to every kid in fucking town. Your list of suspects is infinite. I can't help you here."

"You won't tell me who did it..." Bowers narrowed his eyes. "But I bet your little friend will." He took a step forward, causing Richie and Eddie to both gasp and step back.

"Eddie, go!" Richie demanded again, turning toward his friend and shoving him back harder than before.

"Grab him!" Bowers yelled to one of his friends, even though Eddie wasn't even trying to run.

Richie immediately felt hands on his own arms, pulling him backward as Patrick splashed over toward Eddie, grabbing the younger boy's arms in harsh hands and pulling him back so that he was against Patrick's chest, looking out with wide eyes at Richie, who Henry was holding in a similar manner.

Eddie let out a small whimpering noise as he shrunk down under Patrick's hands, but didn't struggle. He was clearly scared to do anything other than hold still and hope for the best.

"Bowers, stop! Patrick, let him go! He didn't do it! I did!" Richie lied. He had to save Eddie, and if that meant taking the blame for this, then so be it. "I did it, okay? I fucking did it... Let him go and do whatever you have to do to me... I did it... I think you fucking suck, so I painted a dick on your ugly ass car. Alright? So punch me... Whatever... Just let Eddie go. He didn't do anything. I did."

"No you didn't..." Henry guessed, narrowing his eyes and staring an annoyed glare.

"I did... I thought it'd be funny. It was me... So just... Just let Eddie go. Beat the shit out of me if you have to... I'm the one being a dick, as usual. Just do whatever you have to do to me. Let Eddie go..." Richie breathed. "I'm an annoying little prick... You should punch me." He shrugged. "Eddie didn't do anything."

"Richie, stop!" Eddie whimpered. "He didn't do it! Let us go!"

"Your little friend looks more scared than you do." Henry whispered as he leaned down close to Richie's ear. "That's smart. You guys should be scared... Patrick could break his little arm so fucking easy... I've killed dogs bigger than that little runt."

Richie continued staring at Eddie, who stared back with wide, fearful eyes. He appeared to be shaking ever so slightly. He had tears in his eyes. His breaths were growing more rapid, more wheezy. Richie had to do something. He had to get all the attention back on him. If they wanted to hurt someone, they could hurt him. He couldn't let them hurt his friend.

"There's a lesson in here somewhere, you know." Richie started. "If you don't want dicks painted on your car, stop being dicks. I was only painting your portraits." Richie breathed, his voice shaking a bit more than he would have liked it to.

He swallowed as it didn't seem any of the bullies were going to take his bait. They didn't respond at all. They were still all looking at Eddie.

Richie breathed out a small breath, then looked up over his shoulder at Henry. "You ever wash that nasty ass mangy mullet dripping down your head, Bowers? Has it grown a personality of its own yet? Developed any new varieties of super-lice? That's a thing, you know. Super-lice. Bet there's like a fuckin' swarm of 'em in there."

Richie forced a small smirk as he noticed Patrick laugh at his comment and Henry's hands tighten around his arms. "Looks like maybe you wash it in oil and shit maybe." He went on, further digging his own grave for Eddie's sake. "I hear that's actually good to get rid of the lice. They can't live in that sort of chaotic apocalyptic wasteland. Even lice can only deal with so much."

Henry let out a small growl, then spun Richie around, punching him hard across the face.

Richie winced and fell down into the water again, ignoring Eddie's frightened cries behind him. It was either this, or letting them hurt Eddie instead. Richie had no choice.

Groaning, Richie pushed his glasses back up his nose. He tasted blood in his mouth. He either accidentally bit his cheek, lip, or tongue. He couldn't even tell. He just knew he felt pain and his mouth tasted that salty metallic flavor of blood.

"Hold onto him, Belch." Henry ordered as he dragged Richie up roughly by his arm and shoved him toward his friend. "I see what you're doing, Tozier. Running your little mouth so we're mad at you and not him." Henry nodded toward Patrick and Eddie. "It's not gonna work. I heard enough of your shit to know it's all talk. It's a distraction. Hold him tight, Belch." He demanded.

Richie let out a shaking breath as Belch held each of his arms in a vice-like grip. He was in quite a bit of pain from Henry's punches to the side of his face and his ribs, but he was more scared for Eddie's sake than his own.

"We can get back at Trashmouth by fucking with the little one." Patrick noted, letting go of one of Eddie's arms and pulling a lighter out of his pocket.

"Exactly." Henry smirked, stepping up toward Eddie and grabbing his now-free arm. He dragged it up toward Patrick's lighter while the other boy lit it up and moved it toward Eddie's fingers.

"No! Stop!" Eddie whimpered, pulling his fingers into a fist and trying to yank his arm back. "Please don't!" He sobbed as Patrick drew his lighter closer.

"Better keep that thing away from Henry's greasy hair!" Richie called out, determined to run his mouth as much as he needed to to deflect attention from Eddie and onto himself. "You'll start a fuckin' forest fire out here. No amount of water in the world could stop it. That shit's gotta be highly flammable by this point."

Richie's heart pounded in his chest as none of his taunts seemed to be working how they usually did. Normally, any time one of their bullies started zeroing in on one of his friends, Richie would say something stupid to attract their attention to himself. It wasn't working. They were still only interested in Eddie. They knew what Richie was doing and weren't going to let him get away with it.

Eddie whimpered a shaking cry as Henry squeezed his wrist tighter and Patrick brought his lighter up to Eddie's arm, letting the flame touch the skin of the younger boy's forearm for a long two seconds. "Stop!" Eddie screamed, pulling uselessly at his arm.

"Patrick, don't!" Richie pleaded, yanking his arms uselessly, trying and failing to free himself from Belch's grip. "Let him go! Stop! Bowers, you gross piece of shit! Let him go! Get off of me, Belch! Get the fuck off of me!"

Patrick moved the lighter back away from Eddie, snapping it closed and laughing as Eddie choked out pained, shaking sobs.

"The more you talk, the more pain he's gonna get." Henry growled, letting go of Eddie's arm and staring at Richie with cold, angry eyes.

Eddie whimpered breathlessly, pulling his arm protectively against his chest and shrinking down as much as Patrick's firm grip on his other arm allowed.

Richie swallowed and snapped his mouth shut. It looked like Henry had finally found his greatest weakness. For once, he didn't know what to say to get himself and Eddie out of this mess. Richie didn't know what to do. He couldn't plead, couldn't attract their anger toward him to keep it off Eddie. He felt entirely trapped. Eddie was entirely trapped... And even though Richie wasn't even the one who vandalized Henry's car, he couldn't help but to feel like this was all his fault.

xxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Belch's hands gripped Richie's arms in a powerful, painful hold as Richie struggled to free himself. Just twelve or fifteen feet in front of him, Henry Bowers and the rest of his horrible, violent gang had Eddie in their grips, determined to make him suffer as some sort of sick, twisted punishment directed at Richie.

Richie had never felt so powerless in all of his life. Usually if any of their bullies targeted one of his friends in Richie's presence, Richie's smart mouth could get them out of it. Bowers had caught on, and it seemed anything Richie said today was just making it worse... So Richie decided to take a different approach. Rather than make them angry, he'd just have to appeal to their logical side, assuming they had one. Richie wasn't even the one who painted their car. They were hurting Eddie because of it, and it wasn't even Richie's fault.

"Henry, please... I didn't touch your fucking car!" Richie breathed, his voice shaking. "I seriously didn't... If I did it, I'd just tell you. And if I knew who did it, I'd tell you. Please don't hurt him. Please... I didn't even do it... None of us did. It wasn't any of my friends. They'd have told me..." He rambled on and on. The longer none of the bullies said anything back or let Eddie go, the more Richie started to feel very real panic bubbling up in his chest. Was there no way out of this?

Eddie whimpered a shaking, pained breath as he squeezed his eyes shut and shrunk down. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pulled uselessly at his arms. Henry and Patrick each held onto one of them.

Vic smirked back at Richie as he stepped up to Eddie, balling his hand into a fist and slamming it hard against the smaller boy's ribs.

"Stop!" Richie screamed, balling his own hands into fists and tugging violently, yet uselessly at his arms.

Eddie choked out a pained sob and squeezed his own hands closed as he sunk down. He would have likely gone all the way to the ground if Bowers and Patrick weren't holding firmly onto him. "Please..." He whispered in a tiny, raspy voice. He was clearly having trouble breathing now.

Richie felt panic in his chest. Eddie couldn't deal with this kind of thing like Richie could. The smaller boy panicked easily. He was so little, easier to hurt. He had asthma attacks when he was overwhelmed or scared. Richie knew from personal experience that sometimes Eddie's asthma attacks could get really bad if not dealt with right away. Once he left his inhaler at home and had an attack in town, pretty far from the pharmacy... Richie had never been so scared in his life. If they didn't let him go, he could even potentially be in life-or-death danger.

Henry roughly grabbed Eddie from Patrick, yanking his arm hard so that Eddie whimpered a shaking cry and grabbed out at the front of Henry's shirt to brace himself. "Let us go! Please!" Eddie choked, clearly entirely out of breath. "I'm sorry about your car! Please!" He sobbed.

Henry laughed as he drew a fist back and punched Eddie quite hard across the side of his face.

Eddie stumbled back and landed half in the water with a pained moan, curling himself onto his side and choking a shaking breath.

Richie held his breath and stared at his friend, pulling hard, yet uselessly at his trapped arms, wanting more than anything to go to Eddie's side, to help him up, to hug him, shield him with his own body, and promise he'd be okay... To get him the hell out of here.

Eddie brought a shaking hand up to his nose, which was now bleeding. He drew his fingertips back and stared at the bright red staining them, then let out another shaking sob as he struggled to crawl away. Eddie's limbs shook and he moved slowly. He was clearly in pain... He wasn't going to make it far.

"Get up, Girly Boy." Patrick taunted, walking over to Eddie and kicking out at his foot.

Eddie whimpered softly and pulled himself into a protective ball, covering his head and face with his arms and hands, probably worried that Patrick would start kicking him harder, all over.

"Patrick, please..." Richie breathed, then looked back at Belch. "Let me go... Let me help him, Belch, please... Please... We didn't even do anything to the car. He doesn't deserve this. Eddie wouldn't ever hurt a fly. He's so small... It's not a fair fight and you know it. Please let me help him."

Belch ignored him and looked at his friends as Vic grabbed Eddie's arm and pulled him up to his feet, only to roughly shove him back again with his hands against Eddie's shoulders.

Eddie whimpered as he fell back and landed backward on his hands. He quickly tried to crawl away, still backward, stumbling and slipping in the wet rocks as Bowers and Patrick advanced on him. They each grabbed an arm and hauled him back up.

"No!" Eddie screamed, thrashing wildly in their grip. It seemed his previous fear of even moving had all but vanished. He was fully willing to fight back now. Richie didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Eddie wasn't going to be able to overpower them, but maybe they thought it was funnier when he wouldn't fight back. Maybe they'd get sick of this sooner now that he was struggling, making it slightly harder for them. Or maybe they'd just be more angry with him for making it more difficult. Maybe they'd hurt him worse.

"Hold him down." Henry ordered.

Richie breathed out a shaking breath as he watched Vic and Patrick each grab one of Eddie's arms. Eddie's eyes were wide and uncertain too, until Henry took his knife out again. Then Eddie started to panic. So did Richie.

"Bowers, please!" Richie practically whispered. "I didn't touch your car. You fucking know he didn't... Please don't do this. Belch..." Richie looked up over his shoulder. "Please... Please don't let them..."

"Shut up." Belch squeezed his hands tighter around Richie's arms, bringing a sharp wince out of his mouth as he gritted his teeth together and watched Henry grab the front of Eddie's shirt in a fist, pulling it up to reveal his stomach and chest.

Eddie's breaths were so fucking frantic. His chest was rising and falling so quickly, a fact made more obvious once his shirt was pulled up. He was clearly hyperventilating. He was going to pass out soon just from that if he didn't calm down... But Richie couldn't exactly hope for him to calm down now. This was fucking terrifying.

"Please!" Eddie sobbed, squeezing his hands into fists and clearly pulling desperately at his arms. Richie could see his friend's muscles straining as he pulled with all of his might. It was useless. Vic and Patrick each held one way too tight for him to break free, but he wasn't going to stop trying.

"Hold him still." Henry growled, sliding his shirt up further and pressing the tip of his knife to the skin over Eddie's ribs. "How many times should I cut him?" He smirked up at his friends. "One for the car..." He noted, dragging the knife down in a line about three inches long.

Eddie screamed a horrible, pained scream, squeezing his eyes shut as tears streamed down his cheeks. He seemingly was no longer able to beg with words. He was only screaming, sobbing choked, desperate, terrified sobs.

"Oh my fucking god, Bowers! Stop!" Richie begged as he watched a stream of blood ooze out of the cut, dripping down Eddie's stomach and into the water.

Eddie's breaths were so short and shaky as his screams finally died down. He kept his eyes squeezed closed and judging by how much it seemed like Vic and Patrick were literally holding him up, he may have been quite close to passing out.

"We'll do two for the car, since I know you guys know who did it and you're lying about it." Henry added, moving his knife back up, about an inch away from the first cut.

"We don't know!" Richie screamed. "We seriously don't fucking know! Don't you think I'd fucking tell you by now if I did! I'd fucking tell you! Why the fuck wouldn't I? Bowers, stop!"

Eddie screamed again, a much smaller, weaker scream as Henry dragged the knife down in a line parallel to the first. Eddie's voice was mostly drowned out by his own shaking, breathless sobs.

"Shhh..." Patrick mocked, moving his free hand up and cupping the side of Eddie's face, wiping tears away with his thumb. "Don't cry, Pretty Boy. You're okay. It's a little scrape." He laughed.

Eddie didn't even flinch under Patrick's hand. He must have been in too much pain to even realize or care that the older boy was touching his face. Instead he just continued sucking in pained, wheezing breaths, squeezing his eyes shut as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

"Here. Hold this." Henry passed his knife off to Patrick and grabbed Eddie's arms, pulling him out of the grip of his friends. "Stay awake, kid. We're just getting started." Henry breathed, shaking Eddie rather harshly in his hands.

Eddie moaned softly, shrinking down what little he could as he half-opened his eyes. He was clearly close to losing consciousness. This was way too much for him to handle.

"Eds!" Richie screamed, tugging at his arms again. Eddie's breaths were so small, so weak. He looked practically passed out already. "Remember to breathe, Eds. Just breathe." Richie's voice shook.

"You gotta fuckin' remind him?" Henry laughed, pulling Eddie close, wrapping his arm around Eddie's back as though they were friends. Henry was clearly holding Eddie up though. Eddie wouldn't have remained upright on his own at this point. "Remember to breathe, Girly Boy." He mocked, putting his hand over Eddie's chest and laughing. "Fill up those little lungs." He laughed.

Eddie choked out tiny, almost silent sobs as he leaned heavily on Henry, allowing the older boy to keep him from falling. "L-let m-me go..." He whispered shakily. "Please... Pl-please let us go..." He cried.

"Tell me who fucked with my car, and I will." Henry whispered.

"I did it, fucker!" Richie screamed. "I already fucking told you! I said I didn't and you didn't believe me. I said I did, and you still didn't believe me. I don't know what you fucking want! I'll take the god damned blame for it, okay? Whether I did it or not, whatever... Just take it out on me. I'm the annoying asshole. I'm the one you fucking hate... So come and get me, prick!"

Henry laughed softly, leaning down closer to Eddie. "Your boyfriend over there thinks everything's a fuckin' joke." Henry growled as he dragged Eddie further into the water so that it was up to Eddie's thighs. Eddie stumbled weakly after him, no longer even fighting back.

"I'm not joking, bitch! I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck you want from me right now!" Richie growled. "Your car's fucked up... Okay... I'll fuckin' clean it. I'll pay to fix it... I'll pretend I'm the one who did it. Just tell me what you fucking want me to do, Bowers, and I'll do it!"

"I want you to watch, Tozier. I want you to see what I'm doing to your little girlfriend here and remember it next time you think about fucking with me." He leaned down closer to Eddie's ear again. "Everything's a joke... Do you think he'll laugh at this?" Henry smirked, suddenly grabbing the back of Eddie's neck and slamming him face-down into the water.

Richie felt his eyes widen as he struggled wildly under Belch's grip. "Oh my god... Bowers, stop! Get off me!" He screamed as he thrashed under Belch's hands. "Let him up! He can't breathe!"

"No shit!" Henry laughed as he held Eddie down. "That's the point."

Richie's panicked breaths rose and fell in his chest as he continued struggling wildly under Belch's hands and could do nothing but watch Eddie's frantically flailing arms splashing and gripping at Henry's hands in front of him. Henry still held Eddie's head down, refusing to let him up.

"Bowers, fucking stop!" Richie screamed. "We didn't do anything to you! And even if we did it's not worth this! Jesus Christ! You're gonna kill him! Stop! He was already having trouble breathing you fucking coward!"

Henry just laughed, continuing to hold Eddie down under the surface. "You ever see someone drown before?" He stared at Richie. "It takes longer than you'd think... Probably feels really long for him." He nodded down toward the splashes below.

"Stop!" Richie cried. "Does this make you feel strong, you piece of shit!? To hurt someone so much smaller than you? He has no chance and you know it, you weak bastard! Let him up! Let him fucking up!"

Belch cleared his throat awkward. "Um... Maybe you should let him up soon... Don't kill him, Bowers..." He spoke up with a nervous laugh from behind Richie.

"I won't." Henry laughed, finally dragging Eddie back up out of the water.

Eddie wheezed very painful-sounding breaths mixed with frantic coughs as he held onto Henry's arms with a death-grip, clearly scared the older boy would shove him back down, but also needing to hold onto something to keep himself from collapsing. He didn't even seem to try to speak. He simply coughed and sputtered. His breaths sounded extremely labored and pained.

"Eddie, just try to breathe!" Richie called out. It hurt so much to be so close yet so useless to his friend. "Just breathe, Eds. Slow, steady breaths. You'll be okay. Just in and out. Deep, slow breaths, Eds." Richie's voice shook with tears. He'd never felt so powerless, so scared. If they killed Eddie, right here in front of him, while Richie could do nothing but watch, he'd fucking kill all of them. He didn't care if he went to prison. He'd track them each down and kill them.

"That's sweet, Richie." Henry smirked, looking down at Eddie and patting the smaller boy's back rather roughly. "Just breathe, Girly Boy. You can do it!" He taunted.

"Oh my god... Bowers, please stop... He's got asthma... He can't breathe. Please..." Richie breathed, feeling complete, horrible fear gripping his chest. Eddie could barely breathe when he was upset even on a normal day. Couple that with having his head forced under water? He might actually die... "Bowers, please let him go... Let him use his inhaler. He can't breathe..." Richie repeated.

"You don't say..." Henry smirked, shoving Eddie down into the water again.

"No!" Eddie screamed a weak, shaky, horrified shriek before Henry forced his head back under water.

Richie saw air bubbles rising up out of the water as Eddie struggled. The smaller boy's arms continued thrashing, splashing wildly as Richie gritted his teeth and held his breath.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Richie screamed, stomping his foot down hard on Belch's foot and taking the opportunity given by the older boy releasing one of his arms to punch out at his chest in an effort to get his other arm free.

Belch let go of him for a second, but as soon as Richie rushed toward his friend, the older boy had grabbed him again, pulling him violently back and crushing him tight against his chest. "Stop fighting, you little prick." Belch growled, holding him painfully close.

"He's gonna kill him!" Richie screamed, trying to thrash under the older boy's grip, but completely failing to even move an inch. "Let me go! Henry, stop! STOP!" He screamed.

Eddie was barely even fighting back anymore. The water was practically still, besides an occasional weak, splashing hand.

"Maybe you should let him up." Belch suggested, clearly not wanting to risk Eddie actually drowning. They'd all be in serious trouble if that happened, and he knew it.

Henry finally dragged Eddie back up after what was probably a horribly long minute, but what felt like hours.

Richie's throat felt tight as he observed Eddie, who seemed very close to passing out as he weakly gripped at Henry's arms and coughed tiny, shaking coughs. The smaller boy closed his eyes and whimpered softly as he trembled.

Richie held his breath as he stared at Eddie, then up at Henry. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was done. Maybe nearly drowning Eddie was enough to satisfy his need to hurt someone. Maybe he'd let them go now.

Henry laughed, but seemed like he was done with this particular torment. He held Eddie up by his arm and grabbed his face in his other hand. "Hard to breathe down there, huh, Wheezy?" He laughed, squeezing his hand around Eddie's chin and cheeks.

Eddie choked out a small, shaking sob and kept his eyes squeezed shut.

Richie's eyes widened as he noticed Patrick making his way over to Henry and Eddie. Patrick roughly grabbed Eddie's arm and yanked him back, then shoved him, very hard, back into the water.

Eddie let out a tiny, startled cry as he fell backward with a splash. He sobbed a pitiful, shaking whimper as Patrick closed in on him again, grabbing his hands around the smaller boy's throat and squeezing as he shoved him under the water again.

"Please! Patrick, please let him up!" Richie sobbed. They were actually going to kill him. Eddie was already close to losing consciousness from the last time he was held under the water. He wasn't going to last much longer.

Patrick just laughed as he held Eddie under. Richie noticed with a horrible, sinking feeling in his chest that Eddie's arms were no longer thrashing. He saw no air bubbles rising to the surface. Everything about the water was terrifyingly still.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Eddie choked out painful, breathless sobs between frantic fits of coughing when Patrick finally dragged him back up above the water's surface. If the older boy hadn't been pretty much strangling him while holding him under, Eddie probably would have swallowed quite a bit of water.

He couldn't even tell what anyone around him was saying as he continued coughing. His ears felt like they were simultaneously ringing and full of cotton. So did his lungs and his whole head. He felt utterly lost, in pain, yet numb. His vision was dark around the edges, and slightly less dark everywhere else. He couldn't see, hear, or speak. All he could do was cough and shrink away from any touch he felt on him.

Somebody was holding onto him still. He felt hands on his chest and shoulder. He couldn't tell if they were friend or foe - probably still Patrick, which definitely wasn't good. He felt a mixture of tears and water streaming down his cheeks. The chill water and the fact that he was practically passed out from lack of oxygen made him shiver uncontrollably.

But more than anything else, he could only focus on trying to breathe. All he could do was cough painful, shaking coughs between painful, wheezing breaths. He didn't feel like any air was reaching his lungs. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His chest hurt. His whole body felt beaten up and suffocated. He felt like he was dying. Was he? Had Henry and his friends finally taken their cruelty so far that Eddie was going to die here?

Eddie felt silent, breathless tears streaming down his face as he reached up and grabbed with weak fingers at the arm of whoever held onto him. He felt like he was half-asleep. He couldn't get himself to fully wake up, but the longer he stood here, the more he felt pain rather than numbness. Perhaps that was a good thing. He wasn't dead as long as he felt pain.

After what felt like ages of confusion and dark almost silent muffled noises, Eddie started to take note of the fact that a lot of people nearby were making a whole lot of noise - talking, screaming, laughing... He couldn't make out any individual voice at the moment, but he could speak up as well, and hope someone would hear him. He could try to plea for his life, to plea for help...

"I c-can't br-" Eddie cut himself off with another fit of painful, wheezing coughs as he nearly collapsed into the water. Someone grabbed his arms in hard fists and held him up. It wasn't Richie. He could tell. The hands were too rough... and if it were Richie, he'd be getting Eddie's inhaler for him, or leading him out of the water at the very least.

He could swear he heard Richie's voice yelling something nearby, probably telling Patrick or Henry or whoever was holding onto Eddie's arms right now to fucking let him go.

"H-" Eddie coughed again, trying to reach down into his fanny pack for his inhaler. "Help me-" He wheezed, breaking down into a fit of painful coughs again as he felt his legs shaking under him, barely able to help whoever was holding onto him keep him upright.

"This what you want?" He heard Henry laughing close to his ear as the older boy reached down into his fanny pack, knocking Eddie's shaking hand away and grabbing his inhaler from him.

Eddie tried to nod, grabbing with shaking hands toward his medicine.

"You can't breathe, little baby? Is it really hard for you?" Henry mocked.

"P-please." Eddie whimpered, feeling his fingers come into contact with the inhaler still in Henry's hand.

Henry pulled the inhaler back. "Don't you think you're old enough that you need to learn how to breathe on your own?" He laughed. "Catch, Vic!" Henry shouted, seemingly tossing it to his friend.

Eddie whimpered a shaking sob and squeezed his eyes shut. "I ca-" Eddie choked. "Help me... Richie... Can't br-breathe..." His voice shook as pained tears stung at his eyes.

"Give it back, you fucker!" Richie's frantic voice screamed. "He has asthma! He can't fucking breathe without it!"

Eddie wheezed painfully, putting his hand uselessly up to his throat as he tried to blink his eyes back open. He was finally becoming more aware of his surroundings, so maybe he wasn't dying after all. He could hear more now. He could tell who was talking and what they were saying... Now he just needed to clear all the heavy smoke out from in front of his eyes and get his lungs to function again.

Eddie vaguely heard the sound of his inhaler being sprayed somewhere nearby. He blinked his eyes a few times until he could see better, focusing on Vic, who held the inhaler up in the air, spraying it up at nothing.

With a scared, shaking whimper, Eddie pulled weakly away from Henry, failing completely to escape his grip. "P-please... Gi-give it ba-back..." He choked, wheezing in a few more shaking, dry, painful breaths.

"He can't breathe, Vic! Stop!" Richie's louder voice pleaded. "Just let him breathe. Give it back! Jesus Christ! You're gonna kill him!"

"That true, Girly Boy? You gonna die from this?" Henry breathed near Eddie's ear.

Eddie shrunk down, coughing a pained cough. "M-maybe..." He squeaked. "I n-need it... Please..."

Henry laughed and shrugged as Eddie looked back toward Vic, who stuffed the inhaler into his pocket. "If he can talk, he can breathe. He's being a dramatic little brat." Vic assumed. "He probably doesn't even have asthma."

Eddie whimpered a shaking sob and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't breathe. He wasn't lying. He wasn't just being dramatic. He wouldn't pretend to be unable to breathe for fun. This wasn't fucking fun for him. He hated it. He hated the attention and sympathetic stares that came with it. He felt embarrassed and weak every time he used his inhaler, but he needed it. He literally could not breathe right now. He needed his inhaler.

"It's your loudmouth friend's fault this is happening." Henry whispered, dragging Eddie up out of the water and onto the bank covered in dirt and stones. Eddie felt them shift slightly under his feet as he stumbled along after Henry.

"What do you guys want?" Richie's voice shook. "An apology? Money? I'll do whatever you want, okay? Just let him have his inhaler... Please! Stop hurting him. He didn't fucking do anything to you. Henry, please..."

Eddie felt more tears choking him up as he heard how scared Richie sounded. Richie didn't normally beg. He wasn't scared of anything, because he could talk his way out of anything. But none of that was working today. Today, Richie was just as powerless as Eddie always felt. His friend must have felt completely terrified. Eddie knew he would be if he were in Richie's place. He wished Richie didn't have to be here to see this. Maybe Eddie was going to die here today. There was nothing he could do to stop it... But he at least wished Richie didn't have to watch.

Eddie tried to catch himself when Henry shoved him roughly toward the ground, but he mostly failed, landing painfully against the cold, hard stones and letting himself simply lie where he fell.

"I don't want shit from you, Tozier. 'Cept what you're already giving me... Seeing you like this, fuckin' nothing smart to say for once. That's all I need. Keep crying, you four-eyed fuckin' queer. Keep begging." Henry laughed.

Eddie wheezed shakily and tried to pull himself into a small ball as he felt a hand on his arm, twisting it painfully behind his back. "L-let go!" He sobbed, trying to pull his arm back. Henry was twisting and jerking his arm back so hard. Eddie felt sharp pain shooting through his entire arm, up into his shoulder, and the pain was only growing worse.

"Henry stop!' Richie screamed. "Just beat the shit out of me! You can do it as much as you want!"

Eddie couldn't help but to scream as he felt the horrible, popping sensation of his shoulder being pulled harshly out of its socket. White, hot pain shot through his entire arm and collar. He continued screaming, drowning out whatever Richie was saying, drowning out all of his own thoughts, until Henry finally let go of him only to kick him hard against his ribs.

Curling in on himself, Eddie sobbed pained, terrified gasps, hugging his hurt arm against his chest. He wheezed quick, shallow breaths. Each one felt like knives in his lungs. He felt like he was going to throw up, pass out, suffocate and die... He'd never been in so much pain in his entire life.

"Remember this the next time you wanna fuck with my car, Trashmouth." Henry growled as he kicked Eddie again, against his back this time.

Eddie whimpered a rather silent scream and curled his protective ball even tighter. He was so entirely out of breath, in so much fucking pain.

"You owe me fifty dollars, Tozier. At the very fucking least. A hundred if you don't want me to strangle your fucking friend to death next time." Henry added, kicking Eddie again. "Come up with the money however you need to, but you got one week. I'm not kidding. I'll fuckin' kill him next time."

Eddie shrunk down, gasping and coughing breathless, dry, tearful sobs as Henry squatted down next to him, pressing his hand against Eddie's head so that his cheek was held harshly against the smooth, cool stones on the ground. He put his other hand heavily on Eddie's back, effectively holding him down, even though Eddie wasn't sure he could stand up on his own at this point anyway.

"Okay. I'll get it to you." Richie breathed. "Leave him alone... Please... I'll get it... I'll get the money. I'll get it." He sounded so frantic.

Eddie moaned a soft, pained breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't even bother trying to pry Henry's hands off of him or begging the older boy to let him go. Nothing worked. He felt so defeated, so breathless, in so much pain. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out any second now. He hoped it would be temporary. He hoped he wasn't dying.

"Please, Bowers... I'll pay you the money, okay? Just stop..." Richie's voice shook.

"Come on, Bowers. I don't wanna go to jail for fucking murder." Belch's voice laughed nervously from somewhere near Richie's. "Let's leave it here. The poor fuckin' kid can't breathe. Lets just stop now, okay? He's like half dead."

"Yeah. I think they learned their lesson." Vic laughed.

"They better have. Come on, Pat." Henry ordered, finally letting go of Eddie and standing up.

Eddie could swear he heard the sound of someone spitting as Henry turned and left. He had probably spit on Eddie... But for once, Eddie really didn't even care. He just hoped he might be able to breathe again soon, before he passed out and never woke up.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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As soon as Belch let go of him, Richie rushed to Eddie's side, putting his hand on the younger boy's back and simply holding onto him as he kept a watchful stare on the four older boys, needing to make sure they were actually leaving before he let himself feel safe enough to focus his full attention on Eddie.

He felt Eddie's tiny, wheezing breaths through his back, under his hand. They were so small, but felt almost violent under his fingertips. Each one was so quick and shallow. Richie had never witnessed Eddie have an asthma attack this bad before. Of course, this was more than a simple asthma attack though. They had practically drowned him, kicked him, beat him. His breaths being short was from more than just defective lungs. It sounded so painful.

The smaller boy moaned softly as he barely seemed to register that Richie was even there. Eddie curled very slightly in on himself, whimpering a tiny, shaking breath. He looked and sounded to be in so much pain. Richie wanted to cry... but Eddie needed him to be strong right now. Eddie was beaten down and hurt enough that Richie had to be the one to keep it together. He usually was, of course... but Eddie needed it now more than ever.

"You're okay... You're gonna be fine..." Richie whispered, rubbing Eddie's back gently and still watching Bowers and his gang, needing to be sure to be ready if they decided to turn back around and come back.

When Richie was certain the older boys were gone, he shifted his focus entirely to Eddie, carefully turning him over and pulling him half up onto his own lap. Eddie's breaths were still quick and strained. His eyebrows were knitted with worry and tears streamed down his eyes as his lower lip trembled. He stared up at Richie with wide, dark, terrified eyes. He could barely breathe, and obviously that was scary.

"You're gonna be okay, Eds. Alright? Don't be scared. I'm gonna help you. Try to breathe... Just go slow..." Richie whispered, nodding slightly as he forced a small smile, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

Eddie stared up at Richie with huge eyes, shaking his head and choking out a tiny, breathless whimper. "C-can't..." He sobbed, reaching up with is uninjured arm and grabbing at Richie's shirt. He choked a tiny, groaning noise, closing his eyes and whimpering. "E-ever-everything h-hurts..."

"I know... Eds, I'm so sorry..." Richie breathed, feeling his chest tighten with panic. He couldn't afford to freak out right now though. He had to stay calm, for Eddie's sake. He had to maintain control and order, so that Eddie would be more calm. He had to help Eddie get his breathing in check first. Then they could assess his injuries, get him home or to the hospital. As long as he kept breathing, he'd be okay. Richie just had to get that one thing going, then everything would be okay.

"Breathe, Eddie. Slow and steady." Richie's voice shook. "You can do it. You're gonna do it. Let's go. In and out. Slow and calm."

"N-need my in-inhaler..." Eddie wheezed, reaching shaking, fumbling hands down toward his fanny pack.

Richie carefully took Eddie's hand in his own, squeezing it lightly. "Vic took it, Eds. It's gone... But th-that's okay." Richie had to fight the urge to fully panic just like Eddie. Though he was out of breath, though his heart was pounding, he had to maintain at least the illusion that he wasn't completely freaked out right now. He didn't know for sure if Eddie could sort out his breathing without the inhaler this time... but it was their only choice unless Richie left him here to go get an inhaler or picked Eddie up and physically took him to get one. They probably didn't have time for that.

"It's not... I-it's n-not okay..." Eddie gasped, choking out shaking sobs. "I c-can't breathe... I'm g-gonna die..." He whimpered.

"No, you're not." Richie glared. "You're not gonna fuckin' die, Eds. I won't let you. You're just gonna have to breathe without it. We don't have it, so you've gotta breathe on your own. I know you can do it. You already are... You just need to breathe slower, deeper."

Eddie shook his head and looked down,crying soft, breathless tears. "I n-need m-my inh-haler, Richie..." He stammered.

"You're gonna be fine, Eds. I'm gonna help you breathe without it." Richie promised, hoping what he was promising was true.

Eddie shook his head and whimpered softly. "I can't." He whispered in a tiny, trembling voice. "R-Richie... I can't."

"You can." Richie promised, squeezing Eddie's hand in his and putting the other on his friend's shaking, wheezing chest. "Just inhale, slow, even, deep breaths... You can do it, Eds. Remember that time in gym class? You did it then. You can do it now."

"I al-almost died th-that day..." Eddie whimpered.

"You didn't." Richie shook his head. "It just felt like it."

Eddie had started having an asthma attack after gym class a few months ago - probably actually started during gym class, but sometimes Eddie was embarrassed to make his asthma attacks into a huge spectacle. The teacher wouldn't let him wear his fanny pack with his P.E. uniform, so he had to leave it down in the locker room... Then when they went back down to change, Eddie found that someone stole all his clothes - including the fanny pack... including his inhaler.

That made his panic, and his breathing, even worse... That's when it turned from short breaths, to full-on suffocating wheezing. Richie had been scared to leave him alone, so they sat on the floor and Richie pretty much talked him through the attack, reminding him to breathe slowly, evenly, breathing along with him to demonstrate, speaking calm, quiet, reassuring words though the whole thing... Eventually, his breaths calmed down and he was fine. It was scary as hell for both of them, but he indeed survived an asthma attack without his inhaler.

"You were fine then. You'll be fine now. Just breathe, Eds. We'll do it together." Richie offered.

Eddie choked out a pained whimper. Each of his breaths sounded like they were going past a narrow tube clogged with water and debris. They sounded so painful, so difficult.

"I c-can't... I h-have as-asthma, Richie... I can't j-just wi-will it away..." Eddie sobbed.

"Normal kids with asthma can't. You can, Eds. You're stronger than other kids. You can do it." Richie promised, taking Eddie's hand in his own and pressing it against Richie's chest. "Breathe in." Richie breathed a long, slow breath, demonstrating for Eddie to do the same.

Eddie was clearly trying. He breathed in a long, slow breath as well, but his was shaky, wheezing, pained.

"Good. You're doing it, Eds." Richie forced a smile, placing his hand carefully on Eddie's cheek, holding the other in place over Eddie's hand on Richie's chest. "Keep doing it. In-" He breathed in again. "And out." He exhaled.

Eddie's wide, terrified eyes stared intently at Richie as his breaths seemed to slowly but surely even out. Eddie was still shaking. His breaths still sounded painful... But he was breathing better. Richie wasn't scared he was going to die from lack of oxygen anymore. He was, however, worried that the smaller boy had almost been drowned, that he might have broken bones from all the rough kicks to his ribs and his arms being roughly twisted and jerked around. His chest had been cut with a knife. He was still hurt in quite a few significant ways.

"You're doing great, Eddie." Richie breathed, still keeping his voice a lot more calm than his mind was. He wanted to panic. He wanted to demand that they get Eddie to a hospital immediately. But he had to stay calm. Eddie was already too easy to scare. Richie had to be the one to assure him none of this was a big deal, even if Richie didn't believe it himself.

"A-are you okay?" Eddie rasped between shaky breaths.

Richie let out a small laugh. "Yeah. 'Course I'm okay." He promised, pulling Eddie into a hug now that he was sure his breathing was back on track. Now that he was finally speaking almost normally again.

Eddie hugged him back, but his grip was weak, and Richie noticed he only used one arm. Maybe the other was hurt from being grabbed too hard. Richie could swear he had heard a popping noise when Vic was twisting his friend's arm back behind him.

"Are you mad at me?" Eddie whispered.

Richie frowned, pulling back out of their embrace and staring at Eddie's eyes, which were brimming with fresh tears. "Why the fuck would I be mad at you?" Richie asked.

"Y-you told me to run..." Eddie's voice was still tiny, shaking with unshed tears. "You told me to go. I didn't listen to you. I stayed and I got hurt and you had to watch... Y-you were really scared. I c-could tell..."

"I'm not mad at you, Eds. I wanted you to run so you wouldn't get hurt... And yeah, I was scared... I was really fucking scared. But that's not on you. It's their fault. Not yours. I'm mad at Henry Bowers and his shit-pile of friends. I fucking hate them..." He growled. "God, I fucking hate them."

Eddie closed his eyes tiredly and leaned his head against Richie's chest.

"D-do you need me to take you to the hospital, or home? Can... Do you think you can walk?" Richie wondered. As much as he sort of liked the idea of just hugging Eddie, being glad he was alright... they probably needed to get him medical attention.

"I don't want to." Eddie whispered. "I th-think I'm okay now."

Richie frowned, pulling back and helping Eddie to his feet. "Let's get out of the water... And if you won't go home or to the doctor, you've gotta let me look at you."

Eddie pouted, but allowed Richie to lead him further up the bank, sitting him down on an old log. "I'm alright, Richie." He said again.

Richie shook his head as he looked his friend up and down. Red stained the front of his t-shirt where it had bled through from the cuts Henry's knife made. He had a rather watery stream of blood flowing from his nose, down over his chin and onto the collar of his shirt. He was holding his arm like it was broken and his breaths still weren't fully back to normal.

"Can I see where he cut you?" Richie swallowed nervously. There was quite a bit of red on Eddie's shirt.

Eddie frowned and looked down, pulling his shirt up over his stomach and sticking his lower lip out in a pout. "Do you think it's infected?" Eddie whispered.

"No." Richie shook his head. "We'll get it all cleaned. It's fine... I just wanna make sure it's not deep - that you don't need stitches or anything. I won't make you go to the hospital unless I think you have to. I just gotta make sure you're not bleeding too much or anything."

Eddie trembled slightly as he watched Richie squat down to see his chest and stomach. Richie put his fingers softly against his friend's cold skin. The cuts were still bleeding, but not gushing or anything. Eddie wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death, and probably didn't need stitches. It looked like he had some pretty deep bruising starting to show up on his ribs though.

"Do you think your ribs are broken, Eddie?" Richie frowned and looked up at his friend.

Eddie shook his head and shrugged. "I don't think so. I mean, they hurt, but I don't think so."

"Can I?" Richie moved his fingertips toward Eddie's stomach. "I'll just check really quick... Make sure nothing's sticking out where it shouldn't be?"

Eddie swallowed nervously, but nodded, biting his lower lip and staring down at his friend.

"I'll be careful, Eds." Richie nodded and forced a small smile. "I won't hurt you."

Eddie stared silently, sniffing back unshed tears as he watched Richie run his fingers lightly over his ribs. It didn't feel like anything was out of place. Though it was possible Eddie could have a cracked rib, nothing was obviously broken.

"Eds, I think you're okay... And I'm not gonna try to force you to go to the doctor... But if you start feeling really sick or something, make sure you tell your mom the truth. I know Bowers and his goons are scary, but if you've got a serious injury, you have to tell." Richie suggested.

"Okay." Eddie whispered. "I think I'm okay though..." His lower lip trembled as more tears brimmed his eyes. He looked down at his shoulder and pulled his arm close, breathing in a shaking breath. "I can't go to the doctor... I can't tell the truth, Richie... They'll kill me..."

Richie exhaled and let his eyes scan over Eddie's arm. It was clearly hurt. Richie just didn't know how hurt. "I can look at it, Eds. Maybe I can fix it..."

Eddie shook his head miserably, sniffing back tears.

"Lemme see your arm, Eds." Richie held his hand out. "If you don't want to go to the hospital or tell the truth, we've gotta see if we can fix it ourselves."

Eddie stared up at him with wide eyes, hugging his arm protectively to his chest. He shook his head no. "It's fine..." He whispered.

"No it's not. It sounded like Vic yanked it out of its socket... And you're holding it like it hurts. You gotta let me see." Richie persisted.

Eddie shook his head again. "No." He whispered.

"Fine. If you won't let me look at it, then we've gotta go home, or to the hospital." Richie stood back up and offered his hand down. "Give me your hand. I'll help you up. Let's go."

"No!" Eddie gasped. "My mom's gonna be so mad..." He whimpered, shrinking down and raising his hands up toward his face.

"She won't be mad at you." Richie frowned.

"Yes she will." Eddie cried softly. "I can't tell her it was Bowers and his friends... I can't tell her it was them... She'll be mad that I won't say. She'll be really, really mad..."

"I can look at your arm, maybe fix it myself... And we can get you cleaned up, and she'll never know." Richie suggested.

"But h-he cut me... Th-the cuts are gonna get infected from the water and my blood will be infected in my whole body. You can't amputate your whole body, Richie!" Eddie was almost shouting now. A fresh wave of panic was clearly washing over him now that everything that had just happened was finally sinking in. "I'm gonna die from this! My mom'll have to go to my appointments with me while I'm dying of a blood infection, and she'll be so mad. We can't hide this from her if I get a blood infection and start dying, Richie... and m-my arm. I think it's broken! How are we gonna hide that? You can't fix a broken arm, Richie... You're not a doctor! And I might have bruises she'll see... She's gonna know..." Eddie breathed shakily.

"Calm down." Richie put his hand on Eddie's face. "You're working yourself up... Keep breathing Eds... We'll fix this. I can fix anything. You just keep breathing. I'll take care of the rest. You'll be fine. You're not getting a blood infection. You're not gonna die."

Eddie whimpered softly and looked down, but didn't argue. Richie wasn't sure if his friend trusted his words or not, but at least he wasn't in full-panic-rant mode anymore. "I don't want her to know..." He whispered.

"Then let me see your am, Eds." Richie frowned. "I'll fix you up as best as I can. We'll make sure your mom doesn't see anything you can't explain away... We'll clean the cuts. Make sure you don't get an infection, wash away everything else... And I'll make your arm good as new. If I can't, we'll say it was an accident, so she can't make a big scene about it."

"Y-you know she'll make a scene anyway." Eddie whispered.

"Then just let me see it. Maybe I can fix it, and she never has to know." Richie shrugged. "Let me see your arm. I won't hurt it."

"I know." Eddie squeaked, looking down and still hugging his arm against his chest. "I mean, I know you won't on purpose..."

"Let me see." Richie tried a more gentle voice.

Eddie's lower lip trembled as he moved his other arm away from his injured one. "M-my shoulder..." He whispered. "I think it's dislocated."

"Okay..." Richie breathed, pulling carefully on Eddie's collar so he could see his shoulder better. It did look a little mis-shaped. "I think I can fix it. I dislocated mine once when my mom wasn't home. I just popped it back. Kinda hurt for a while, but not even that bad, and it works fine now. She never found out."

Tears shined in Eddie's eyes as he stared nervously back. Richie noticed his small friend was trembling under Richie's hands.

"You want me to try?" Richie asked. "Tell me if it hurts too bad and I'll stop?"

Eddie's lip trembled as he nodded. "Okay." He whispered.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut as Richie held his arm in gentle but firm hands. "Just breathe in a big breath, Eds, and count to five... Then it'll be done."

"Okay..." Eddie whispered, inhaling a deep breath, keeping his eyes shut. "One, two..."

Richie held his own breath as he winced, pulling Eddie's arm back and then forcing it back up into the socket.

Eddie let out a tiny scream and flinched, then opened his eyes and breathed a shaky breath. "I-is it done?" He whispered.

"I think so..." Richie gasped, feeling suddenly very nervous that he might have done it wrong - might have made it worse. "D-does it feel better?"

Eddie looked down at his shoulder, moving it slightly and exhaling. "I think it does..." He whispered, finally smiling slightly through his tears. "Thanks, Rich..."

Richie let out a nervous, shaking, breathless laugh. "Holy fuck... Thank god. I thought I just fucked it up worse..."

"W-what?" Eddie stared. "Y-you said you could fix it! Like you knew!"

"I said I thought I could." Richie laughed. "It's fixed. Don't worry about it."

Eddie pouted, looking down at his shoulder again, rotating it slowly.

"It's fine, Eds. Don't get mad..." Richie frowned.

"I'm not." Eddie whispered. "Thank you for fixing it..."

"You're welcome." Richie smiled lightly. "Now we've gotta find some way to make you look a little less like you got run over by a semi truck."

Eddie inhaled a sharp breath and looked down. "I look like that?" He asked in a tiny voice.

Richie shook his head. "No. But we do need to clean up the blood and dirt if you don't want your mom asking an ass-load of questions..."

Eddie looked up, his lower lip trembling. "What are we gonna do?"

"We'll sneak back to my house... My mom said she was going shopping this morning and my dad's at work." Richie suggested. "We'll clean you up, wash your clothes."

"As if you know how to wash clothes." Eddie laughed shakily through unshed tears.

"You can show me." Richie grabbed Eddie's hand on his uninjured arm and pulled him up, draping his own arm over Eddie's shoulders and pulling him close.

xxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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While Eddie was in his bathroom taking a shower, Richie settled on simply washing his hands and arms up to his elbows and changing his clothes. He'd gotten quite a bit of dirty water on himself too, but he didn't care as much as Eddie did about germs.

He also went ahead and cleaned up his face, including dried blood and a bit of smudged dirt. He figured he was clean enough to avoid raising any suspicions once is mom or dad got home, and that was all that mattered.

After he'd cleaned himself up, he took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror, trying to decide if any of his injuries were bad enough that he'd need to come up with a story to cover up the truth. His mom didn't like it when he got into fights with other boys, and Richie sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that Bowers and his friends beat the shit out of him and then held him back while they almost drowned Eddie. His mom would call the fucking police. Then Bowers would actually kill Richie, maybe Eddie too.

Richie inhaled a shaking breath as he stared at himself, turning his head to the side and poking gently at a bruise forming on his jaw. It would probably look even worse by tomorrow. The one on his cheek under his eye would too. He could say he walked into a tree branch - maybe ran into it... He could say he and Eddie were playing tag in the woods and he full-on sprinted into a tree while he wasn't looking, then fell down a hill after. That could explain everything but the finger-shaped bruises on his arms.

Frowning, Richie looked down, turning each of his arms over. Belch had held onto him so tightly. Richie had been struggling so much. He had honestly feared Eddie might die today. He wondered how close he had come to that. When he was under the water those last couple times, he practically stopped moving. Probably another thirty seconds, and he could have drowned.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Richie made his way toward the kitchen. He didn't have to worry about that. Eddie was okay. They could have killed him. They came kind of close... but they did stop, and he was fine now.

Richie made his way around the kitchen, taking two mugs out of the cabinet and making two cups of hot chocolate - one for Eddie and one for himself. He put them on the table, each in front of a separate chair, and headed toward the bathroom.

"You about done, Eds?" Richie called out as he knocked softly on the door.

"Yeah." Eddie yelled back, waiting about another minute before opening the door and offering a small smile. "You look better than you did earlier..." Eddie noted in a small voice.

Richie laughed. "I looked like fucking shit. You didn't even tell me."

"Not as bad as I did." Eddie forced a small laugh as well.

Richie smiled slightly as he looked Eddie up and down. He looked much better now that he'd showered. Besides a bit of red and purple around his nose and under one eye, you couldn't tell he'd been hit. If he stayed out of any good lighting, his mom might not even notice... and if she did notice, he could use the same story as Richie planned to - that he ran into a tree while he wasn't looking and then fell down a hill.

"Did you get the cuts on your chest cleaned up?" Richie asked with a frown as he looked down at Eddie's shirt - which was actually Richie's shirt - Richie had given him some clean clothes to wear while they washed and dried Eddie's. "Don't want you getting an infection..."

Eddie nodded, lifting his shirt up and peeling back a gauze pad so Richie could see. "They weren't that bad." Eddie explained. "They mostly stopped bleeding, but I scrubbed them pretty good in the shower, and I took some gauze pads from the cabinet and used some hydrogen peroxide. I think I cleaned them good enough."

"Um... Okay..." Richie shrugged. He would have settled on soap and water if it were him. He bent down slightly and put his fingers near the cuts, touching Eddie's skin carefully. The skin directly around the cuts was a little red, probably from Eddie frantically scrubbing at them, but the marks were clean, seemingly shallow. Richie had faith Eddie would keep them much more clean than he needed to. "Looks like they'll be fine." He guessed.

"I hope so." Eddie whispered. "I don't want an infection. My mom's cousin got his foot cut on a piece of glass when he was playing in an abandoned factory as a kid... Foot got infected, turned all green, then black. Dripping puss... Had to get it amputated. He walked with a cane and a weird wooden peg leg for the rest of his life."

"Did you ever meet him?" Richie frowned. He had a strong suspicion all these cautionary tale people Eddie's mom happened to know and constantly tell him about weren't actually real.

"No, but my mom used to play with him when they were kids." Eddie shrugged.

Richie smiled slightly. Sometimes Eddie was so gullible. "Let's go to the kitchen." Richie suggested. "I made you some hot chocolate. With extra marshmallows."

Eddie smiled slightly and followed Richie into the dining room, sitting down in front of one of the cups as Richie sat in the chair next to it.

"That's a lot of marshmallows." Eddie laughed softly as he looked down at his cup.

Richie smiled. "Just how you like it."

"Yeah." Eddie smiled too, taking a small sip. "Thanks, Richie." He whispered.

"Your arm still feel okay?" Richie frowned, still staring at Eddie, still worried that maybe he was more hurt than he seemed, that even though he seemed to be doing so much better now, that there might be something Richie was missing.

"Yeah. You fixed it, Richie. It's practically good as new." Eddie smiled a small smile. "Are you still feeling okay? Henry kinda beat you up a lot at first..."

"Yeah, but that's nothing new. I'm fine." Richie laughed slightly.

"Good." Eddie whispered, looking down with a frown. "I'm really sorry, Richie..."

Richie frowned too. "Why? It's not your fault, Eds. Don't blame yourself for this. We were out numbered. There were four of them, two of us, and they're practically fucking giants anyway. Don't be sorry."

"It is my fault though." Eddie breathed, still staring down at his cup as he wrapped his fingers around it. "I'm sorry they hurt you... And that you had to watch them hurt me... I could tell you were scared. I was really scared too, but I hated hearing you begging and screaming. I'm normally the one scared to fucking death, screaming for them to stop hurting someone. I how how much that sucks. I'm sorry..."

Richie exhaled loudly. "Yeah... I was fucking scared, Eds... But it's not your fault."

"Yeah it is." Eddie nodded, speaking in a small voice. "I know it was stupid... Henry's car... I'm the one who spray-painted it."

Richie almost wanted to laugh. Eddie did not. He would have never dared.

"I did it, Richie. I don't know why... I know it was like the dumbest thing I could have done... But last week when they tripped me, and you came and helped me up, and then they shoved you, and I was too scared to do anything... and he was calling us names... I just got fucking sick of it." Eddie explained, his breaths increasing slightly as he recounted this story. "I don't like it when he calls us faggots, Richie. Or queers... or calling me 'Girly Boy' or anything else. I fucking hate it. I wanted him to have a huge fucking label on him for once... For the whole town to see him labeled a fucking dick, because that's what he is, Richie. That's what he is. A massive fucking dick."

"Holy shit..." Richie stared. Eddie looked so mad, so uncharacteristically filled with pent up rage. "You really did it, Eds?"

"Yeah." Eddie whispered. "I just... guess I thought he wouldn't suspect me, but I should have considered he might suspect it was you... I mean, he was gonna blame someone... I guess it's fitting that I'm the one he almost fucking drowned for it..." He forced a nervous laugh.

Richie shook his head. "They didn't know it was you, Eds. And they hurt you anyway... but even if they saw you fucking do it, you didn't deserve that. They earned that big dick on their car by being huge dickheads all their lives. They should have never touched you."

Eddie shrugged slightly. "It was dumb. I shouldn't have done it."

"No, Eds. I'm fucking proud. You're growing up... Learning all my reckless tricks. I'm fucking impressed." Richie laughed, reaching over and pulling Eddie into a half-hug.

"I don't know what I was thinking." Eddie laughed breathlessly. "I found spray paint under the kissing bridge last night... I was walking by and looked down and found it. Almost a full can... So I walked down the hill and I took it, not even planning to do anything specific with it at first... It was getting dark, so they probably didn't notice until this morning... But as I was walking back up, I kinda slipped and they were walking down."

"I know it was dumb of me to be there so close to night... I was all alone, so I was pretty nervous to see them. I mean, they could have beat the shit out of me. No one would have stopped them. They didn't do anything. Not like anything violent anyway, but they called me a faggot, asked me if I was giving blow jobs down there... I kind of just looked down and rushed past them as they all laughed and kept moving. I think they were lighting firecrackers and throwing 'em in the water... They weren't watching their car..."

"So you painted a big dick on it." Richie guessed. "Eds, that's fucking hilarious!"

"But now they want money from you, and I can't even help you pay it... I don't have that kinda money, Richie... I don't want to tell them it was me either. They almost fucking killed me already... If they find out I'm the one who did it? They're gonna like legit fucking murder me, Richie." Eddie stared, his eyes wide.

"I'll take the blame publicly..." Richie promised. "Another other than our circle of friends can believe it was me. It fits the view of me everybody already has. No harm done. I don't care if they think it was me. We'll see if any of our friends can help with the money. They'll be happy to help. Eds, I promise they won't mind. They won't be mad. They'll think it was funny."

Eddie frowned. "I shouldn't have done it... Our friends will think it was stupid, and they'll be mad they have to help come up with money to fix my stupid fucking mistake."

"Are you kidding? It wasn't a mistake. This has been a long time coming. I'm surprised it took this long for someone to paint a dick on something of Bowers's. It's priceless... Our friends will think so too. Just wait 'til I tell Stanley." Richie laughed.

"He won't think it's funny." Eddie frowned.

"Yes he will. He just doesn't like it when I do shit like that. He'll love it if he knows it was you... I'll bet all of 'em will find a way to chip in some money. Especially if we go on a walking tour and let 'em all see your handiwork. I certainly want to see it." Richie smiled, standing up and pulling Eddie into a full hug.

"I guess I could ask my mom for ten dollars maybe... say we're getting burgers and fries and milkshakes or something..." Eddie laughed, hugging Richie back with his uninjured arm.

"Yeah. I'll do the same. We'll see if the others can too. My mom might even give me twenty or thirty if I ask nicely and say I'm getting stuff for everyone." Richie offered.

"So you're really not mad?" Eddie asked, pulling back slightly and looking up at Richie with a frown. "You don't think what I did was stupid?"

"Of course it was stupid, but I'm not mad." Richie answered. "Don't get into the habit of it or anything... But just this once? I'm really impressed. I'm proud of you, Eds."

Eddie smiled slightly, pulling Richie into a hug. "I love you, Richie." He whispered. "Thanks for defending me... Taking the blame... I don't deserve you."

"Well, you're stuck with me, Eddie Spaghetti." Richie smirked, hugging Eddie back. "No more dicks on cars though. I'll let you get away with it this one time since you're so fuckin' cute, but that's it."

Eddie laughed, laying his head against Richie's shoulder.

Richie hugged Eddie tighter, rustling his hand through the smaller boy's hair, then pulling back just enough to kiss Eddie's forehead.

"Gross, Richie!" Eddie laughed, rubbing his forehead and shoving Richie gently.

"Just a token of my love, Eds." Richie smiled, pinching Eddie's cheek lightly, then tapping his nose with his finger.

"You're seriously not mad that I made Henry that pissed off? He beat you up, Richie. He made you watch while he almost fucking killed me." Eddie pouted. "I'd have been mad at you if you did this..."

"I'm not mad, Eds. I promise. You deserve to get to vent a little. Henry deserves dicks painted on everything he owns. He's lucky that's all he got." Richie assured his friend. "But next time they corner us, if you have the chance, you should run." He added with a small frown.

"Next time we'll both run." Eddie corrected.

Richie smiled a small smirk, then nodded as he pulled Eddie back into a hug. "Fair enough. Next time we'll both run." He agreed.

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THE END

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned. A very long story focusing mostly on Eddie but very much also on Richie is on the way... 18 chapters of drama, trauma, fluffies, brotherly friendship/love. I think you guys will really like it.


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